The Port of Adventure. C. N. Williamson

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СКАЧАТЬ Angela admitted. "But—it looks different, somehow." She glanced again at the outside of the bag, and Nick's heart jumped. "The bag looks different, too," she said. "Newer, and——"

      "As a matter of fact I took the liberty of having it cleaned up before it came back to your hands."

      "But the stones——"

      "The worst of it is they had to be put back in again," said Nick. "That gives a different look."

      "The thief had taken out the stones?"

      "Somebody had, anyhow—some of them."

      "And I'm not to ask questions! It's the most mysterious thing I ever heard."

      "I expect it's one of those cases where 'the least said soonest mended,'" Nick remarked.

      "But do you know who took the bag, and what happened?"

      "No more than you do. I—just had to make the best of a bad business. I hope you don't think I did wrong?"

      "No, indeed. That would be ungrateful. Only—it's very strange. I suppose this must be my bag, but——"

      "You can take your oath of that, anyhow. And it's your money."

      "More than I thought I had. And the bag looks prettier. It's as if I'd cast my bread on the waters and it had returned—buttered. One good thing is, I can pay you. Four hundred dollars I borrowed. Here it is."

      Nick had not bargained for this transaction, and it was the last thing he wanted.

      "But—but—you're not leaving yourself enough," he objected.

      "Oh, yes. I can pay for my ticket as far as my first stopping-place. Already I've written the bank to have money to meet me there, and it will be in time, for I shall stay in that town several days. You must take it—really."

      He could not refuse, although it meant that he would not have her address, or an excuse for giving his. Slowly he drew the miniature frame out from an inside pocket of his coat. "I kept it there so as to be sure it was safe," he explained, lest the lady should think he had taken a liberty in wearing her property close to his heart.

      Then, with many more thanks from Angela, and protestations on his part, they said good-bye. Although the newspapers had told her that Mr. Hilliard lived near Bakersfield, California, she had no association with that part of the State, and it seemed improbable to Angela that she should ever meet the handsome forest creature again. As she had no home she could not, even if it seemed best, invite him to call upon her at some future time; but she felt a stirring of regret that her travelling adventure was over—quite over—now.

      After that she had not much time to think, because there were things to do before she took the train. And then she was in the express, getting settled in a stateroom, which would be hers all the way to Los Angeles. Kate, who was to have a berth in the same car, arranged her mistress's things, and beamed with excitement and joy. They were really going West now—she and Timmy the cat: and going West meant getting nearer and nearer to Oregon. Meanwhile the girl was happy, for she adored Angela.

      When Kate had finished her work everything was delightfully compact in the pretty green room, which was almost as big as Mrs. May's cabin on the ship. A white silk dressing-gown hung from a hook. The gold-backed brushes and crystal bottles from her fitted bag were arranged conveniently. There were lilies of the valley in a vase.

      "Where did those flowers come from?" Angela asked.

      "I don't know ma'am. I found them here," said Kate. "Perhaps the railway people supply them to the state-rooms."

      Perhaps they did. But Angela suspected something different. She was touched and pleased. He must have taken some trouble in getting the lilies placed in the right room. And it was like him not to have come forward himself to bid her good-bye. But—suddenly the question sprang into her head—how had he found out that she was travelling in this train?

      All the afternoon she watched the Louisiana plantations, lakes, and bayous fly by in sunshine and shadow; or she read a novel of the South as it had been in old days. It was an interesting story and held her attention so closely that she was late in going to dinner. When at last she went there was only one chair left, at a table for two. Mr. Nickson Hilliard sat in the other.

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